


so with a heavy heart i'll guide this dagger

by theredtailedhawkwithjewelsforeyes



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Jaskier, Emotional Constipation, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, king jaskier to the rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22265344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredtailedhawkwithjewelsforeyes/pseuds/theredtailedhawkwithjewelsforeyes
Summary: 5.) Jaskier is not violent, as a general rule. He could be, but he isn’t. The feeling of a fight- straining muscles, blooming pain, like fucking but far worse- is something he’d rather leave to someone else.But.-6.) There will be tales told a thousand years in the future about a Witcher and his bodyguard the bard.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 86
Kudos: 1706





	so with a heavy heart i'll guide this dagger

**Author's Note:**

> additional tags that for some reason didnt pop up are: comedic relief saying fuck it my story now, jaskier yells at a ghoul, jaskier thinks weird things are romantic, is jaskier goth? 
> 
> title from brutus by the buttress because i was listening to it on repeat. why does it slap so hard

Some points, made as concisely as a bard’s tongue will permit: 

1.) Geralt often allows Jaskier to come with him on his little monster fights. 

Or, well. ‘Allows’ is a strong word, really- Jaskier says “I’m coming along”, Geralt grumbles and tries to make him stay back in the inn, and Jaskier goes with him anyways. Regardless, he gets a front row seat to little adventure seminars, and it’s almost always gross and bloody, but what’s a good song without all that? Jaskier stays back by the trees, anyways, and so it’s hardly a danger (although Geralt would protest and has protested that Jaskier’s knack for getting into trouble is almost superhuman. Jaskier had said “good, that makes two of us”, and Geralt hadn’t laughed, which he doesn’t think is _entirely_ fair).

It goes like this: Geralt gets a job, doesn’t tell Jaskier until the last minute- tries to surprise him with it, usually, like Jaskier’s bothered by a little impromptu trip. One time he’d caught him sneaking out in the night, which is mostly hilarious and something he could probably work into a song as a plus. He eventually lets it slip, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. Jaskier grabs up his little bag and gets cheerfully to walking. Sometimes he’s made to stand further back in the cover of the trees, which is annoying, and one time he’d almost gotten eaten by some sort of enormous fish, which was mostly just terrifying. Both had made lovely little ditties. 

Such is life. 

The point is, Jaskier considers himself experienced in these matters. He annoys the Witcher on the way up, annoys the Witcher while they wait, and annoys the Witcher while they trek back with whatever bloody spoil Geralt’s managed to collect. It’s not precisely an art form- his _poetry_ and _songs_ are art, thank you very much- but it’s, like. It’s refined, at least. Not much room for error. He spices it up in his songs, sure, but it’s really sit, watch, wait, go home. Rinse and repeat. 

-

2.) No one, not even Witchers, are infallible. 

And Jaskier had thought he’d _known_ that. He looks at Geralt and sees more than anyone else is privy to, just by virtue of sticking around for long enough and actually _searching_ for it, and he knows that the White Wolf of Rivia is no wolf, but a mortal being. And mortal means subject to death. 

He just hadn’t really considered that before. 

-

3.) An accepted fact: Jaskier will die long before Geralt, one way or another. 

-

4.) There is never good weather when one is out looking for a monster. 

-

Jaskier thinks that perhaps the universe is out to get him. Jaskier has a hole in the toe of his boot. These two truths are connected. 

Jaskier has a hole in his boot, and he’s slogging through what might be a swamp and what might be just a particularly unfortunate collection of puddles. His clothes are soaked through, and it’s bitingly cold, and he has a hole in his boot right on his big toe that keeps letting in grainy bits of mud.

“I’m fucking frozen,” he tells Geralt. Geralt hmms. His restraint, Jaskier admits, is admirable, considering Geralt definitely told him to stay in the room with its warm fire. It’s no bother- Jaskier has no problem with making a fool out of himself, and the quiet of the forest is far too eerie to just sit in his ears. 

“I’m- I am, Geralt, truly, and I mean this with all my heart- I am going to freeze. I am going to drown, and freeze into a block on my way down. It’s really... I mean, look, this monster, this-”

“Ghoul,” Geralt supplies. 

“Yes, this _ghoul_ , it’s- what’s one night more to it, you know? When it’s not absolutely miserable out.” He pauses to catch his breath and push his dripping fringe out of his face, rather ineffectively, and then he becomes aware he’s possibly advocating for more human life lost. Well. So be it. “Another-”

“Jaskier,” says Geralt, just the hint of a growl carried on his tone- Jaskier shuts his mouth, and then opens it again. 

“I think- I think- oh, Witcher, we’re _really_ going to a burial mound in the middle of the night in _this_ weather, I mean-” 

“Jaskier.” 

Jaskier shuts up. There’s a growl in Geralt’s voice that means ‘hush, we’re here’. He sighs, stops where he is, and watches that muscular form advance into the mouth of a cave that seems...

Well. It seems like a ghoul might live there, is what it seems like. It seems like a cliche. 

This is the boring part. 

Jaskier sits. 

Jaskier twiddles his thumbs. 

Jaskier takes off his boot and lets a stream of mud drip out onto the ground. Jaskier sighs at the general state of the world. 

Jaskier hears, from inside the cave, a shout that’s all gravel and all Geralt. He doesn’t come out. He doesn’t come out. 

Another shout. 

Jaskier’s on his feet, hand already creeping to his side where he’s stashed his little dagger, and he’s in the cave within the space of a heartbeat. 

Gods, but it stinks in here. It’s where the ghoul comes to feed, and he’d _known_ that, but seeing a hand (just the hand!) thrown almost carelessly a few feet from the entrance is nauseating. It’s dark in here, too, but Geralt and the thing are being _loud_ , so he follows the clanging and grunting and cursing and shrieks (presumably from the ghoul, not Geralt) to a foul smelling little room, faintly lit with moonlight through the crumbling stone. 

There’s Geralt on the ground, sword feet away, and Jaskier can _see_ those teeth so fucking close to his Witcher’s throat, on it, biting _down_ , that it’s like- 

Generally, Jaskier’s instincts say sleep and eat and chatter. Jaskier has been in two fights in his life. Jaskier doesn’t really enjoy seeing Geralt kill the hares they have for supper. 

Jaskier leaps and stabs the thing without a single shred of hestitation. Pure instinct, pure adrenaline. The thing shrieks and turns and slashes at him with those long, dirty fingernails, and Jaskier stabs _again_ , and again, and slashes off fucking fingers, and then Geralt spears the thing through the head and it goes down. 

Silence in the crypt, aside from both of their harsh breathing. Then: 

“Fuck.” 

-

5.) Jaskier is not violent, as a general rule. He could be, but he isn’t. The feeling of a fight- straining muscles, blooming pain, like fucking but far worse- is something he’d rather leave to someone else. 

But.

-

“You fucking _idiot_ ,” Geralt growls- he’s bleeding, fresh blood staining his dark clothes darker all down his front, but he steps to Jaskier’s side anyways and grabs his chin. “Jaskier, you fucking _idiot_.” 

“I might’ve saved your life,” Jaskier says, affronted, and then he sways, and when he looks down- damn. A new shirt to go with the new boots, then, because there’s a ragged tear right below the topmost button. It’s not _fair_. One hand goes up to cover the wound- he can’t really feel it, adrenaline still pumping through his blood, but the warm slip of it makes his stomach sort of slosh. And: “oh, look, we match,” which is a stupid thing to say in retrospect but it’s so _romantic_. Something he’d probably write about in one of his songs. The warrior and the bard, both draining from the throat. 

Maybe not romantic. Maybe weird. Jaskier will make a note. 

For now- he presses a hand over his neck, wipes his other ineffectively on his drenched shirt, and prods at Geralt’s own neck wound (he’s circled back around to romantic. What if they have matching scars?) and _finally_ seems to wake Geralt up from whatever pissed off trance he’s in, because he starts, grabs Jaskier bodily by the waist, and puts him over his shoulder. Jaskier protests a moment, then decides that actually it’d be much nicer to just close his eyes, so he does. 

-

He wakes up to Geralt’s snoring, which is unfamiliar only in the sense that Geralt rises with the sun or whatever outdoorsman type bullshit he’s spouting. He goes back to sleep.

-

The next time he wakes up, it’s from a rather lovely dream involving a bunch of grapes being hand fed to him (he’s never had a grape- they just look so nice, from the paintings he’s seen). He’s warm and his mouth tastes unpleasantly of copper, and when he cracks his jaw open to yawn his neck is constricted uncomfortably. 

Damningly, his first thought is that he must have a collar on. 

His second thought is: what the fuck? 

When he finally thinks to open his eyes, it’s wary- but the room’s empty, and when he raises his hand to his throat there’s just the rough scratch of a linen bandage. Jaskier relaxes, then tenses again, and then he remembers last night and leaps out of bed with a crow of glee. 

Except- Geralt had almost died. Which isn’t good. 

But _Jaskier_ had saved him!

But-

A throat is cleared from the corner of the room, and Jaskier whips around while already knowing exactly what he’ll find- Geralt, as always, skulking half in the shadows. For a man so large, he blends in _so_ well. 

“Jaskier,” he begins- and oh, Jaskier knows that tone. That’s a lecture tone. 

“I saved your life,” Jaskier snaps, preemptively defensive. His neck twinges a bit, but not too terribly. “I _did_ , that thing was about to eat your _throat_ , I couldn’t just-”

“Thank you,” Geralt interrupts. Jaskier blinks at him, completely thrown off. 

“I- what?” 

Golden eyes fixed on him. “It was a tremendously reckless thing to do, and I _did_ tell you to stay back, but.” His eyes leave Jaskier, go somewhere in the general vicinity of the ceiling. “You very probably did save me. So.” Another long pause, made a little awkward by the studious way Geralt’s avoiding his eyes. “Thank you.”

Jaskier gapes in a very unbecoming way. “I-”

“But never do it again,” snaps Geralt suddenly, apparently not quite finished with his little speech. “You were almost killed, bard.”

“But I wasn’t,” Jaskier points out. Geralt’s eyes snap back him to glower, and he crosses his arms. “No, Witcher, I saved your ass. We both got hurt. I’m-” he considers for a long moment. “I’m your monster hunting companion now.” 

“No,” says Geralt.

“I will be,” he says, undeterred. “You’ll see- it’ll look amazing in the songs, you know.”

“Always with the bloody _songs_ ,” Geralt grumbles- but there’s warmth in his tone, a softening to the sharp gold in his eyes. Jaskier beams at him. 

-

6.) There will be tales told a thousand years in the future about a Witcher and his bodyguard the bard. 

-

(7. The matching throat scars are eventually proven to be just as romantic as Jaskier had thought. Don’t tell Geralt, though. He thinks it’s weird.)

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title local dumbass stabs a corpse for his boyfriend, boyfriend is pissed off but like it was kind of hot? 
> 
> for zira666 who said "As for prompts, how about some badass Jaskier? I would love to see Geralt get into some trouble and Jaskier turn up to save him, in the most Jaskier way possible (And perhaps not like himself at all, I’ve never read a fic where Jas gets properly violent, that might be interesting). For some added angst Jaskier gets injured jumping in front of Geralt or something (you know everyone loves shit like that lol)." i did my best 
> 
> if u liked this leave me a comment they r my bread and butter and are the only thing that inspires me to trudge onwards through the sludge of life. in all seriousness though i have NEVER popped out so many fics in a row and its 100% because of all the lovely feedback ive been getting so thank u guys so much i love u <3
> 
> ALSO shoot me a prompt or smth on tumblr at redjewelsforeyes.tumblr.com i will worship the ground you stand on


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